I don’t remember exactly when I heard about WEEN, the Women in Entertainment Empowerment Network, but I remember thinking, I wish WEEN existed when I was in college. I would’ve avoided a few brick walls.
But sometimes those walls are unavoidable, or we learn a lesson from a good ol’ fashioned crash and burn situation.
The WEEN Academy offers a group of young women (ages 18 to 22) a “4-week crash course in the entertainment business.”
The WEEN Class of 2014 came to NYC to work on projects, network, get hooked up with a mentor and snag a front row seat to classes taught by women in the biz.
Imagine having all kinds of a real live face time (not to be confused with Apple’s FaceTime) with publicists, writers, lawyers, brand managers, producers and social media honchos.
This year I taught one of the classes at the Juicy magazine office and we talked about how I got my start in magazine journalism, how mags compete with the Internet, if print will be around (I hope so!) and the good, the bad and the ugly about writing about celebrities.
Back when I was in college, I would have NEVER EVER EVER thought I’d get paid to know who shaved Jada Pinkett Smith’s head on one side, the name and birthdate of Kim Kardashian’s baby or which housewife is the highest paid in the franchise.
It’s a tough fun job (sometimes!), but it isn’t always so glamorous.
There are the long hours.
Sleepless nights.
Last-minute trips.
Impossible deadlines.
Budget cuts. (Yeah, the struggle is real for all media players.)
WEEN co-founder Valeisha Butterfield-Jones highlights some of her less than glamorous experiences in her first book, The GirlPrint, including working for free as an intern.
Meeting with the WEEN students allowed me to look back at my the times I screwed up—like when my cell service dropped two times during a phone interview with an Oscar nominated actress. I ran like an Olympic track star in heels for four block to get to a land line; or when I finally got the nerve to ask a Grammy nominated singer to stop running on the treadmill, so I could have the remaining 10 minutes of my 15-minute interview without the constant thud, thud, thud of his feet hitting the conveyor belt; or when I flew to L.A. for a cover story and the popular female R&B singer pulled a no-show.
My stomach sank as I called my editor-in-chief to explain what happened.
Oh and let’s not forget the time when I called a rapper’s publicist for two weeks only to be told at 4 a.m. that the rapper refused to talk because this interview wasn’t for a cover story. Mind you, his album sales were in the crapper.
When I was the managing editor of XXL a music review ran twice in the mag. Twice. That’s like asking to be fired. I still cringe when I think about that conversation.
Sigh.
But all of those experiences made me a better writer, editor, manager and team player.
I talked to the WEEN students for two hours about the side of the biz that you don’t see (life is not one long series of red carpet moments, rooftop parties and selfies with industry gal pals), my success and when I bombed.
I’ve had my ideas stomped on, laughed at and stolen. I’ve had a publisher kill a cover concept two days before we were set to print. We’ve had to rework covers days before we were set to print.
The WEEN students had tons of tough, smart, thorough questions. They even asked about being a mom and working in this biz. Now that my friends, is the ultimate hustle. There’s no such thing as work-life balance. Please lose me with that. Everything doesn’t and can’t get 100 percent of my attention. I go hard for my fam and my passion. I delegate, schedule, juggle, fundraise, decline events and rinse and repeat. Somedays I’m dope at motherhood, somedays I’m not, but the No. 1 Son forces me to bring my A game.
On graduation day, the WEEN Class of 2014 dressed in white and were armed with certificates of achievement and more insight than they could possibly imagine about surviving and thriving in the entertainment biz. Like Jay-Z said, “It ain’t for everybody.”
They’re super ready to make mark, and I’m proud that I had a small hand in that.
